Death Don't Have No Mercy
by ImInsaneAfterAll
Summary: "And in the midst of pretending and hating and being bitter and turning it into a smile and an empty laugh, Myka wonders where her Oscar is."


_**A/N: So this is my first fanfic ever!11!Which means all mistakes are mine and the fact that this is basically a jumbled mess is my fault (that's what happens when you start something in July and finish it in August at 6 a.m.)**_

_**Disclaimer: Let's be honest, if I owned WH13 it would probably be a three hour Bering and Wells sex tape or something idk**_

_**Anyways, I hope you'll like it :)**_

_ 'Don't leave. Not again. Please just…be okay here. Be okay with me. Can you promise that? That you'll be okay here, that you'll let this be your truth from now on?'_ she doesn't care if it sounds stupid, not right now, not when she's crying in front of the person she might consider her soul-mate if she checked in with her heart more frequently. On any other day, she might have. She _would_ have. She'd call herself stupid and mentally kick herself and her stupid, useless mouth for saying things without checking her brain first. But now it's all she has to work with. Her dumb words that don't make sense half of the time and her creaking heart shouting things like _'Don't let her go, you idiot'_ and _'She'll probably leave if you get better anyway, so you're either going to have your heart broken or you're going to die and break her heart'_ , and if Myka can't even rely on her heart to keep her sanity, then she's pretty much screwed.

But her dumb words seem to be working, because the woman in front of her, for all of her years as a writer, is left speechless by what Pete or Claudia might deem the '_geekiest/lamest/containing-the-most-incomplete-sen tences love speech ever_'. And then she smiles and takes Myka's hands. And, Myka realises with delight, it's not that brilliant smug grin that's adorning Helena's lips right now,but a broken half grin and dammit, that makes Myka want to cry ,because it's probably the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. 

_'I promise._' and it's the most beautiful thing she's ever _heard_(with so much beauty unraveling before Myka's eyes today, she might even consider it the best day of her life if she were the sort of person who did things like that).Mostly because it's spoken with so much love and sincerity she actually has to look away and suppress more unnecessary tears. But also because they're spoken by her. Myka's tormented writer. Her partner in solving puzzles and ocasionally, saving the day. 

And it's stupid, she realises. Asking someone who's never really been there, never really been _hers_ , to stay. Because she knows, without a doubt, that Helena loves her, but she also knows that there will be nights when the grief will come back to haunt her beautiful, broken angel and wrap itself around her jaded heart. And that's when Myka will have to let Helena drift away to swim aimlessly in a sea of guilt and painful memories where the waters are dark and taste bitter and they make her skin boil, make Myka's fingers twitch painfully. That's when she'll have to let Helena retreat back into the old familiar cell she'd created for herself inside the darkest part of her mind (the walls still shine like bronze and the smell of blood, the one on Helena's hands that can't be scrubbed off, not completely , -still lingers in the air). 

And Myka knows it's selfish of her to keep Helena with her. Knows it's cruel to let this woman who knows too much about loss and heartache, wrap her entire being around a dying woman's love. But if there was ever a time to be selfish, Myka muses, it's between fighting an already lost battle with illness ('cancer' sounds too much like the blade is already touching the back of Myka's head ,and makes her skin crawl) and giving up on everything altogether. So she grips Helena's hands until all the pink rushes out and they look like two corpses, clinging to each other even in death.

_And it's their first and last truly happy moment together._

After that it's a flurry of sterile white and then darkness, and Helena's soft voice reading to her from time to time, and hot tears(it frightens Myka that she can't exactly tell whether they are hers or Helena's or entirely someone else's) and sometimes screaming and the sound of giving up bouncing off the walls , and mostly pain. Inside and out. Eating at Myka and replacing everything with sickness. She gets good days, of course. Few and far between. But they're mostly days spent in the park(the only days she can bear to be moved), saying goodbyes and Helena's hand wrapped around her own disappearing one ,shaking with a vibrant '_Don't go please._' 

And sometimes, Myka thinks it would be better if she really did die. Then she wouldn't have to say good-bye every damn month, and she wouldn't have this growing hatred for that ugly park burning her already rotting insides. But mostly she wishes she wouldn't have to look at Helena anymore(she'd laugh at herself and maybe slam her head against a brick wall if she still had the ability to).Because seeing her own death through Helena's eyes and seeing this wonderful, incredible, amazing woman lose her loved one again and again, every damn month is enough to make Myka turn her sadness into anger and wish her cancer would just grow some balls and claim her already. Pull the band-aid off. Let them all grieve and move on and maybe look at a picture of her one day and smile. The pain coming to a stop would just be a bonus. 

But ,you see, she really can't think like that. She shouldn't even _allow_ herself to think that. She should be all strong (mentally, of course-her body had given up on her almost all too quickly) and hopeful and kicking cancer in the balls. Not for herself ,of course, she knows just how sealed her fate is (can feel the blood-red stamp of death dripping through her bones , claiming her already),but for her family. Her odd little family she wishes she had never met(dying surrounded by people you've spent half your life with is much easier than ripping a hole through a family portrait still smelling of fresh ink). 

She wishes she could spare Pete, who looks so lost these days she thinks he might actually be turning into a five year old , and Artie who can barely bring himself to say anything but still stays with her for hours , reminding her that she's still a human being and not a carcass that used to be a something but is now filled with black and maggots and regret, and sweet Claudia who Myka knows has been searching for some kind of artifact to take away this whole mess and make it all better, make it not hurt anymore. And there's Steve who's never stopped treating her like anything else but Myka(although she'd never say it out loud, she appreciates Steve's visits the most when she's in the hospital bed feeling like a host for this giant black hole and trying to fool her body into functioning like one again) and Abigail who encourages her to talk (but really, when you spend your days barely managing to lay in a freaking bed, it kinda takes the joy out of talking and it tends to make you not want to do anything, ever) and sometimes Myka can hear Leena's laugh echoing through the halls, can smell her cookies that always seemed to be freshly taken out of the oven. 

And in these times Myka cries and closes her eyes until she's sure she has died, has gone to a better place(a place where nothing hurts and words like 'cancer' don't exist).And then she opens her eyes and the walls aren't white and she's still there, still sick and Leena is still oh so dead. 

_And no one knows this of course._

It's not like she can tell them either. She wouldn't even know where to start. After all, how exactly could she look them all in the eye and rip all of their hopes to shreds? In what chapter of '_The Great Cancer Guidebook' _does it teach her to do that? And on what line is driving a dagger through Helena's heart mentioned? Myka wishes she knew.

Wishes she had done it entirely different. Working at the Warehouse, letting Pete get into her heart, adopting Claudia as the little sister she wished Tracy had been, calling these people her 'family', dragging Helena from her happy sham of a life , she wishes she could take it all back. Twist a key and go back not do it at all. Spare them and their barely kept in one piece hearts. Make it easier for her to let go of this cruel earth. Escape to oblivion where she'd float away until all she had ever meant would disappear from history and she'd start again as someone else altogether. 

_That's why Myka hates wishes. They rarely come true._

So she keeps fighting. Keeps pretending she's a part of this world even when her suitcase is waiting at the door and one foot is already out it. It's funny, she thinks. That she had always thought of Tracy as the liar. The actress. When all she's doing is pretend, pretend, pretend. Act like she can stand to look at them and their healthy faces. Like the sickness isn't turning her love for them into bitterness and anger and a hatred so dark it's what makes her cry herself to sleep every night. And in the midst of pretending and hating and being bitter and turning it into a smile and an empty laugh, Myka wonders where _her_ Oscar is.

_Until her last day._

And, _excuse you_, Myka has had her fair share of '_last days_' to the point where she's pretty much become an expert in them. This is why she knows this is her last one. Because she wakes up , only to find that she really doesn't mind being alive for another day. And the light peeking through the curtains doesn't scratch furiously at her tired eyes anymore. And the usually annoying birds go unnoticed in their happy chirping. And when Helena stirs from her rooted place at Myka's bedside (sometimes Myka swears there are actual roots keeping Helena's feet stuck in that spot but then the dragon screeches again and Myka remembers there are drugs dancing through her veins ,which might make her imagination a bit more active than it normally would be) and smiles at her with her sleepy eyes that are still oh-so charming despite the dark circles marring them and flashes a tired smile towards her , Myka decides the perfect thing to say after two weeks of barely talking is ' _I love you_ ' .First of all, because she does, with all her heart she does. And second because the thought that this is too good to be true occurs to her. That this might be the last day she'll get to see Helena smile, and sigh and crinkle her nose and breathe and be . So she really ought to say it, today of all days. 

Then Helena smiles and kisses her and asks her if she's feeling better and stronger and should she get the others so they could head out to the park (Myka's glad she'll at least get away from that ugly park and the stupid children that always play there despite it being the ugliest park on the face of the earth and being located right next to a freaking hospital of all places -like all any dying person wants is to look out at blossoming flowers and be reminded that they'll probably die before the goddamn flowers do).And Myka manages a smile and assures Helena that yes, she does feel better and no, the others can stay calm for now , and no , she doesn't really feel like going to the park today , and '_You look worse than I do, when did you last eat?_' , and Helena smiles coyly and excuses herself while she heads down to the hospital cafeteria and eats the dead people food( that's what Myka calls it, what with it tasting as dull and lifeless as the patients occupying this hellhole).And after she's sure Helena's boots have crossed the frame of the elevator , Myka calls a nurse and asks for a pen and some paper. 

_The nurse doesn't even ask what she needs it for._

Half an hour later there's a book in Helena's hand and a smile on her face. And as she carefully lays her body next to Myka's remains(it couldn't and didn't deserve to be called a body anymore) , Myka feels stronger than she's ever felt. And strangely, she craves nothing more than to lay there and listen to Helena read to her. She doesn't know what the book is, thinks it might be one of her favourites. In this moment the words wind together and become unrecognisable , and all Myka cares about is her lover's soft voice lulling her to her last sleep. But she can't let this happen, not this way. So she takes the book from Helena's hands, kisses her and snuggles closer to her. And only after she looks up at Helena and sees her eyes are closed and her breathing slow, does Myka let a tear slip. 

Because this is really _it_. This is what the road has led to. The darkness starts creeping in, spilling over the corners of her eyes and she tries to blink it away, unsuccessfully. And there's a pain coming from somewhere within her. A dull ache that's slowing down her heart and making it harder for Myka to breathe. So she looks to Helena and caresses her cheek, and she looks at the letter peaking from under a vase that holds her goodbyes, and she tries to remember what her last words were (and whether they're worth putting in a book of last words - probably not). 

_And then she closes her eyes and waits for the world to stop._

_And it does._


End file.
